I’ve been spending the past few weeks settling into my new home in the very cool town of Montclair, NJ. This moves me brings me closer to friends, restaurants, NYC, clients and all other kinds of fabulous things.
My new apartment itself is the third floor of a beautiful Victorian house. It is a light, bright, airy space with gorgeous vaulted ceilings in the kitchen and bathroom. It was the first place I looked at post-flood, and I loved it instantly.
It is a MUCH smaller space than my 3 -bedroom house in the country, but this is a good thing. As I worked on salvaging my stuff from the house, I realized a) just how much stuff I had, and b) how little of the space in the house I was actively using (most of it was just glorified storage space for the aforementioned stuff), and c) what a tiny percentage of the stuff I truly cared about.
At the end of the day the things I really valued were untouched and were but a tiny fraction of my belongings. My books, my computer, my cat, photographs of my family and artwork . Even my beloved shoes, while still beloved don’t seem quite as important post-flood.
There was so much that was behind closed doors in the spare room or shoved in closets. Much of it rarely ever saw the light of day, except perhaps each time I moved.
The most striking realization I had however was the fact that I was holding on to a lot of things because they defined me in ways I was apparently not ready to release.
I think most of us have no idea how defined we are by our stuff. This experience was so eye-opening for me because it revealed the comfort I felt in hanging onto things that were familiar and allowed me to hold on to certain stories about myself.
For example, there was the me I used to be – as defined by the dress I wore to my leavers dance (prom) over 15 years ago. I miss this me and – hindsight being what it is – I now recognize how simple my life was back then. I was young and skinny and innocent and my heart had yet to be broken in the many ways that come with adulthood.
Then there is the me I think the world expects me to be – as defined by the gorgeous, white, velvet Italian designer pants which I’ve never worn and which – even when I bought them -were in a size I couldn’t fit . As a woman I’ve had my fair share of brainwashing about how much I should weigh, the way I should dress and how I should behave. For me these pants represent an attempt to live up to to that expectation of myself which is not of my own making, but which I took on as my own.
Then there’s the me I yearn to be – as defined by the mini-trampoline, workout DVDs and other unused exercise paraphernalia. This is the me I am working on becoming. The one who manages to release all of the lifetime habits and patterns which no longer serve her. The one who does all the things she knows are healthful and nurturing, rather than self-destructive and self-violating. The me who remembers that she feels best when she eats a certain way, exercises, meditates, prays, journals and take good care of herself.
Truth be told the things that define me in these all too familiar ways, evoke a lot of emotions in me. What I was startled to see is that none of them made me feel good.
There was sadness and loss looking at a past I can never be relived. Insecurity at not being able to live up to an unrealistic standard and the frustration of beating myself up for not doing what I know is good for me.
Instead I want to keep around me the things that allow me to focus on the strength and wisdom that are the gifts of heartbreak, disappointment and challenge; the true sense of self which allows me to know that I am strong enough, wise enough and ME enough to define myself; and the ability to celebrate my successes rather than focusing on my failures.
I want to surround myself with things that allow me to live in the moment. It’s hard to live in the moment when you’re stuck on the used-to-be, should-be, could-be things. These things I was holding onto didn’t allow me to enjoy exactly where I am today. Right now. In this very moment.
So as I move into my new home I’m doing so with supreme intentionality. I only want to bring into it those things which I love and which are useful and nurturing. The things that keep me in the now and help move me forward instead of stuck in the past.
When I first found the new apartment I would describe it to friends with terms like “downgrading” “down-sizing” , “less space” – but I quickly realized that is far from the truth. This is in fact a massive upgrade. I am upsizing baby. Yes my space may be physically smaller, but emotionally and spiritiually I’m living in a mansion.
I know many of you (I won’t mention any names) are trying to purge/organize/have less stuff. Why not take a look around you and see how much of what you think you can’t live without is really about definitions of yourself that you’re afraid to let go off because they are oh so comfortable.
What are you holding on to that no longer serves or that’s holding you back from moving forward in your life and more importantly living in the moment?
